


Destination Funeral

by MistyBeethoven



Series: "Yes, I Really Am This Pathetic!" or "How to Say I Love You With a Story" [74]
Category: Destination Wedding (2018)
Genre: All Souls' Day, Antisocial Character, Attraction, Awkward Conversations, BBW, Bets & Wagers, Boss/Employee Relationship, Character Death, Coffin sex, Comedy, Conversations, Cynicism, Death, F/M, Fat Shaming, Food Poisoning, Getting stuck together, Getting to Know Each Other, Late Night Conversations, Love, Love Stories, Missionary Position, Morticians, Opposites Attract, Overweight, Romantic Comedy, Sandwiches, Secretaries, Self-Indulgent, Self-Insert, Tinnitus, Wakes & Funerals, Weight Issues, coffins, discussions, fears, funeral homes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-02
Updated: 2020-11-02
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:27:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,190
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27351955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MistyBeethoven/pseuds/MistyBeethoven
Summary: My new boss Lindsay's sudden and unusual death, during one of her social activist cases, provides me with a rather unique dilemma:Do I go to the funeral to pay my last respects to the dead woman?Or do I stay away knowing that her lover Frank will be there?Having encountered Frank's acerbic personality often, whenever he would visit the office, I am in no hurry to expose myself to it even more, especially after overhearing his comments about my weight.Knowing my soon to be unemployed state, however, I soon find myself at the funeral being alternately amused and offended by the man I had hoped to avoid. When a case of tears and bad food end up getting us both trapped inside of the funeral home after hours, certain truths are revealed and we both soon discover just how big and intimate a coffin can be.
Relationships: Frank (Destination Wedding)/Me, Frank/Lindsay (Destination Wedding)
Series: "Yes, I Really Am This Pathetic!" or "How to Say I Love You With a Story" [74]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1589944
Comments: 8
Kudos: 3





	Destination Funeral

**Author's Note:**

> I had this planned for a while but kept putting it off for some reason...then I realized that it was perfect for All Souls' Day. So, here we are.
> 
> I couldn't remember any last names so I invented some. :/

When my new boss Lindsay died, it took everyone at the office pretty much by surprise. I had just started working for her three months before, the newest in a long line of secretaries, and when she shuffled off this mortal coil, I was informed that I had won one person a lot of money because they had been the only person in the pool to bet that I would be Lindsay Arlington's final personal office slave.

After hearing the odds, I didn't know if I should be flattered or not. It seemed that most people had seen my large size, my shy, meek and yet friendly manner and had pegged me as being not able to withstand the highly strung lawyer's volatile temperament.

Or even more, perhaps, it was her acerbic, cynical and frightening lover Frank Beeston they thought that would drive me away.

Frank "Beast On," as the people at the firm liked to refer to him because he usually had his beast on, was a real showstopper: tall, handsome and strong of body. But he also had an attitude that suggested that if he wasn't the anti-Christ he was holding his place for him until he eventually showed up.

When I first saw Frank arrive to escort my boss to dinner I made the mistake of giving him a little piece of my heart. I couldn't help it really. It wasn't just love at first sight but love at first sound, smell and touch too. You see, I'd been looking down at a stack of papers on my desk when he had said, "So, is the queen bee of the politically correct police in?" He said it in a voice that made my heart leap. At the same time, I'd smelled his scent which wasn't of some strong cologne but rather of a really fine sandwich from a deli so expensive, I could never afford it. The man had also had the nerve to invade my personal space by grabbing my busily searching and plump little hand to try and get my attention.

But instead of being upset at the unasked for touch, it only had made me shudder from the strength I felt in fingers which were soft and gentle but strong enough to still be masculine.

I'd raised my head then to finally see the man whom had invoked all of these senses inside of me only to have my eyes similarly beseiged by a man who seemed so perfect it was like God had stopped and taken a moment out of His busy work schedule a few decades before in order to create the most aesthetically pleasing man ever born of woman.

My hand had tingled in his and I had felt my tongue become dry in my mouth while words had died of dehydration on its bristled surface.

He continued to look down at me, his eyebrows rising slowly as I tried to spit the words out to no avail, and hold my hand until Lindsay herself finally appeared and caught us like that.

This was when the man did this strange thing with his mouth and throat, making this odd sound while sticking a finger in his ear, and I was left feeling confused.

"Frank, get your hands off Ms. Smyth. She's my new secretary. I don't want her to file sexual harrassment charges on you her first week here."

Frank had let go of my hand, and as he did, I don't think I had ever been more mad at one of my bosses in my entire life.

"She's new, huh?" the man stated. "That explains why she doesn't look familiar. Did you remember to list speech as a job requirement? I don't think she can talk."

Our eyes were still locked as I managed to finally say, very shyly "Yes, I can talk."

"Well, do you have a volume control then?" he inquired and leaned forward, still fixing me with his piercing gaze. "Because you are barely audible."

I felt embarrassed, my face turning red and I was speechless again before Lindsay came and collected her boyfriend, dragging him into her office.

"Please, don't embarrass me," I heard the lawyer begging. "I need a secretary, at least, until next Thursday. Plus, she's a really fast typist."

"Speaking of plus...What you paying her in anyway? Candy? She's kind of big, isn't she? Is it another one of your company's crusades? Hiring _fat_ help?"

"FRANK! She can probably hear you!"

"What's it matter. She won't last. They never do."

My stomach sank. Tears filled my eyes and I wanted the piece of heart back that I had unwillingly given away.

As Beeston had waltzed by my desk on his way to eat with the beautiful Lindsay Arlington, I saw him glance at me from over his fine shoulder but I barely offered him any attention. I had decided to hate the man instead.

It was what every single person at the office did anyway. Presumably even the person whom had made the bet that made them a winner only three months later.

* * *

The day of Lindsay's funeral, I dressed up in the nicest black dress suit that I owned.

Which meant that I had specifically bought it for the funeral.

I stared at myself for a solid hour in the bedroom mirror, trying to understand why it mattered when I had barely known the deceased besides working for her for three months and getting her endless cups of coffee while taking her abuse. I also repeatedly asked myself why I kept re-adjusting everything because I was inconceivably worried about what her obnoxious boyfriend would think of me when we inevitably crossed paths at the funeral home.

I'd seen Beeston several times since our first meeting and he was always just as rude and arrogant every time since. What was worse was that he seemed to intentionally appear when Lindsay was away or busy so I was forced to spend time with him.

I saw him repeatedly doing that odd thing with the noise, face and ear again. Once he was kind enough to explain, after catching me staring at him in confusion again, that he had tinnitus and he was trying to clear the Eustachian tube. I wanted to mention my sister had it but I still was dedicated to trying to dislike him and he still intimidated my shy, overweight self.

He would prattle on occassionally about his latest ad campaign at J.D Power and Associates, where he worked. Sometimes he'd just stand or sit there and watch me at my desk. It was always out of the corner of his little, brown eyes and I felt that he was surely studying me and wondering what I was still doing there. Three months. That was pretty long for any secretary of Arlington's I heard even if I could type fast as he had commented on once or twice.

Oftentimes, I found myself equally confused. I had no idea _what_ I was doing there either.

The same thought struck me as I walked through the door of Murphy and Binhammer's Funeral Home. I was just a secretary that Lindsay hadn't cared all that much for, good or bad. Surely my presence, or lack thereof, would hardly make much of a difference.

Maybe it was because it was All Souls' Day, I told myself repeatedly, and I wanted to show respect for the dead.

Or perhaps it was because I still hadn't found out the identity of the mysterious gambler whom had won over five thousand dollars on me.

But most probably it was because I was out of a job now and they were serving free sandwiches, I understood.

Making my way over to the table, I quickly started to search for the sandwiches containing roast beef and horseradish. Only to discover somebody else doing the same. While my hand was reaching for a particularly tasty looking one, a familiar hand was making a grab for it also and it clasped over mine as my chubby fingers reached it first.

"Hey, that's mine," I heard Frank Beeston complain. "I had to sleep with her, after all. You just took memos."

I looked up into his eyes, feeling that same electrifying fear I always did whenever he was closeby. Except Frank took the fear as something else. "You _weren't_ sleeping with her, were you?" he asked in curious shock.

"No!" I said, tugging my hand away and the sandwich out of his grip.

"Well somebody was and it wasn't me," Frank stated, giving me an unwanted glimpse into my dead former boss' sex life.

My thoughts instantly went to Charles "Chuck" Finn and his repeated visits to Arlington's office.

The man returned his attention back to the sandwich trays and since he had gone back to being relatively quiet, except for a tinnitus incident, I decided to stay where I was too, picking out sandwiches and eating them without giving a darn. The man already couldn't see past my weight; there was no point in walking away. When I saw him constantly going for a certain type of sandwich, I almost wanted to laugh in secret amusement but stopped myself in dratted compassion.

"Don't go for the egg salad ones," I warned him, reluctantly. "They always go bad first."

Frank Beeston stared at me for a second before grabbing one and taking a big bite, followed by a dramatic chew. After a loud swallow he stated, "Thank you, oh grand Poobah of funeral sandwiches."

I sighed, cursing myself for just trying to be friendly. I then abandoned the food table to go and pay my last respects to Lindsay Arlington, whom was on display inside of her casket. To my horror, I found that I was soon joined by the dead woman's boyfriend. We stood side by side gazing at the woman and apparently thinking the sane thing.

Frank voiced it first.

"Who the hell is that supposed to be? They made her look like fucking Pee Wee Herman."

I bit my lip so I wouldn't burst out in laughter. It was true. If I hadn't known for a fact Lindsay had died, I would have suspected that it was a joke of some sort.

"If I say to her, " Lindsay, you're dead,' I expect her to say 'I know you are but what am I?' And then to start jerking off in the casket," he continued and I lost the war and snorted.

I was afraid, I'd look up at the bereaved man and find him scowling at me, his joke all some cruel test, but Frank was looking down at me almost in amusement, as I struggled with more laughter. We were receiving glares from the other mourners but my companion-in-shame only leaned over and whispered into my ear, "Thank God. You're the first person to laugh when I said that."

"Really? It's true," I commented.

Frank nodded.

I stared at Lindsay's almost unrecognizable face and was reminded of the funeral I had attended once for someone I had loved a great deal more. "They didn't make my mom look right either," I commented. "My sister and I were standing there in hysterics, trying not to laugh, because it was so surreal: to be at her funeral but for it not to look like her. It was all so crazy."

There was silence for two beats before Frank asked what my mom had died of.

"Cancer," I replied with a surge of a pain which would always feel fresh.

"Sorry to hear. Did you hear about how Lindsay, here, died?"

I nodded. "Yes."

"Death by toy poodle," Frank Beeston shook his head in astonishment and explained anyway, as if he still couldn't get over it. "Serves her right though. Animal rights case. Was too busy trying to save the dogs from being made to perform in the circus to spend time with me. Said that they were sweet, innocent and harmless creatures; that it was cruel and inhumane treatment. Held one up in court and then the dumb dog turned around and bit her throat out. Pierced the jugular. Ironic thing was that they had to put the dog down anyway."

I leaned in to take a closer look at the throat, trying to see how good a job the mortician had done in that area.

"Imagine," he continued. "Together we survived a mountain lion and a bunch of crabs or tarantulas. But all it took was one Toy Poodle named Fifi to take her down. Must of not appreciated her taking its job away."

Then Frank saw what I was doing. Not beating around the bush, he pulled down the scarf from around her neck, showing off the wound.

"Ouch," I commented after a flinch.

I turned to look at Frank and his blank expression. Trying to offer comfort, I said, "Don't worry, she's not really there."

"You mean this really _is_ Pee Wee Herman?" he asked staring at the corpse.

"No!" I said, frazzled.

"Where the gell is she then?" Frank turned to ask me.

"She's in _heaven_ ," I stated, afraid of where this might lead.

"No, she's in a _coffin_ ," he argued.

"Today is All Souls' Day," I commented. "I believe that she's in heaven and I honor her memory."

"If you think she deserves to go to heaven you don't honor her memory very well," Frank said with a sharp laugh.

"She was your lover!" I exclaimed under my breath, eyeing him in shock.

"And she was screwing around behind my back. Besides she can't hear me," Frank said. He then took off a pin from his lapel and stabbed the dead woman's earlobe with it before dropping the pin in with the corpse. "See: Nothing."

My mouth fell open in outrage, feeling affronted for my ex boss.

"Why, you bastard!" I cried.

Frank stared at me with a strange look in his oddly sparkling eyes. "Nice insult. You should have heard the ones Lindsay had for you."

He leaned forward and whispered one of them into my ear.

My eyes stinging with tears, I pushed the man away and started to walk towards the door, hoping to leave both Lindsay Arlington and her bitterly twisted lover behind me forever.

Until I remembered the sandwiches and decided to take a few with me.

But not the egg ones. I'd leave those for Frank.

Taking a handful, I realized my mistake for that was when the service started and I was forced to stay on the threat of looking bad running out with a handful of sandwiches. I placed them on the table and took a seat, glancing at Frank, whom was looking at me as he too took a seat. He did that thing again with his throat and ear and I saw a single bead of sweat on his forehead but thought nothing of it, being too upset.

As the service progressed and I sat there thinking about the firm I worked for and hated, the boss whom had made me work to within an inch of my life while professing she wanted fair treatment for all and her boyfriend whom was ridiculously handsome but repulsively abrasive, I suddenly began to cry.

No...not cry but wail in sorrow.

Luckily everybody took it for sadness over Arlington's death. So when I rushed to the ladies room, near the end of the service, nobody thought to look at me strangely but thought that I was wonderfully caring. At the same time, I heard someone rushing equally quickly behind me but didn't turn around. I was not ashamed of my tears but knew that nobody would like me any better for them if they that they were for myself and not for the dearly departed.

* * *

When I emerged from the washroom after forty five minutes of crying and washing my face off to try to look like I _hadn't_ been weeping, I simultaneously saw the door to the men's room opening. Usually too shy to look off of the ground, the familiar shape of the man made my eyes raise and I saw in annoyance that it was Frank Beeston. He looked miserable and I knew that he had finally found out that I had been telling him the truth about the sandwiches. Our eyes met across the corridor and we both glared at each other before storming down the path back to the room we had left in a hurry.

However, when we arrived at the destination, we found that the guests were all gone (as were the sandwiches,) the chairs had been folded and put away, the floor vaccumed and a new closed coffin eerily placed in the middle of the floor.

All the while, Lindsay continued to lie in her own looking like Pee Wee Herman a few days late for Halloween in his "Lindsay Arlington is Dead" costume.

"Where is everybody?" Frank grumbled. He stormed over to the closed doors and tried to open them to no avail. They shaked and rattled from his furious pulling but wouldn't budge.

I stared at the new shining red coffin in curiosity. "They must have closed up for the night and are preparing for tomorrow's visitation," I theorized. "It's after five."

"With us still in here?" he snapped and started to bang on the doors again. "I KNOW YOU'RE USED TO WORKING WITH STIFFS BUT GET OVER IT, YOU BRAINDEAD FUCKS, AND OPEN THE FUCKING DOORS!"

He ran a hand over his head in frustration when nobody came to set us free. I saw him repeatedly doing that thing with his throat again, all the banging not helping his tinnitus one bit.

While I was busy looking at the casket, Frank turned to stare at me. "How'd you know about the egg sandwiches anyway?" he asked in stiff embarrassment.

"My mom sometimes worked at the funeral home across the street. She'd bring home the leftovers...you learn the hard way," I said my hand going to the coffin's lid.

"What the fuck are you doing?" the ad man asked, coming over and holdng the lid shut.

"I want to see who's inside," I replied.

He looked at me as if I had lost my mind.

"My mom also said whenever she was asked if it disturbed her working with dead people that she was more afraid of the _living_ ," I said and then raised my brows. "Besides, weren't you the same guy who just stabbed his dead girlfriend in the ear with a pin?"

"That's different," he argued. "I knew Lindsay. She was mostly dead anyway. You should have seen her pajamas."

I frowned without humor and defiantly lifted the lid in one strong push.

Frank's hand flew off its shining surface and we both looked inside of it.

"It's empty," I said.

Beeston laughed. "And you were so scared."

I rolled my eyes.

"Give me your phone," Frank commanded, holding out his hand.

"What's wrong with yours?" I asked.

"It's as dead as Lindsay over there. I didn't recharge it."

"You didn't recharge it?"

"Well I would have had to have muted the damn thing anyway, not to disturb the service," he explained. "So, give me your phone "

"I don't have it," I replied sheepishly.

"What?" he replied, in deadpanned shock.

"I'm always afraid that I'll drop it or tga6t it will get stolen so I leave it at home."

He continued to stare at me unimpressed.

"I have bad anxiety, okay?"

"But you lift the lids of coffins to check out dead people?" he said in awe.

"I know, I'm weird," I said and looked to the floor.

Frank began to feel his beard. "No. What's weird is that they locked the only two people without phones alone together in the same room," he stated in annoyance.

Still feeling guilty, I tried to defend myself once more. "I'm out of work. Nobody is hiring and I have virtually _nobody_ whom would call me," I mumbled. "Why would I have it on me anyway?"

"You're out of work?" he inquired.

I nodded, non-plussed. "In case you haven't noticed, my boss hasn't been to the office lately, seeing as though she is lying dead over there in her coffin. "

"In case, you haven't realized my lover hasn't been to bed lately either for the same reason," Frank retaliated. "But she was hardly there anyway."

Chuck and Lindsay laughing together flashed across my mind quickly and I pushed it away to find Frank studying me thoughtfully. "Would you like to come work for me?" he proposed.

Eyes widening in shock and horror, I managed to say, "You are just joking with me, right?"

He shook his head, making his long black hair bounce like dark curtains in the open window on a breezy day. "No. I like your work."

"Really? I always heard you criticizing it through the office door."

"That was so she would keep you," he said. "If I hated you, Lindsay wouldn't fire you even if she couldn't stand you; which she couldn't. If she knew that I liked you, you would have been out of there in about three fucking days."

My mouth fell open as I was left reeling. "You like me?"

"Yeah."

"But Lindsay's dead now and you're still treating me like shit."

Frank smiled. "What can I say. I'm a modern day Henry Higgins. I treat everybody like shit. It makes it all good and fair."

Dizzy, I collapsed to the floor then, grabbing on to the coffin on the way down. Frank soon joined me and we sat on the floor side by side, facing his dead lover and my deceased boss.

"Why would you want me as your secretary?" I sighed.

"Because you're the opposite of me," he answered. "You'll lull them into a false sense of security going into my office and yet soothe them out of their rage a little on the way out. You're cute, sweet and fluffy."

I thought of his words to his lover the first day we had met. "Are you sure it's not because you can pay me in candy?"

The air became awkward around us and I regretted bringing the overheard conversation up instantly.

"You heard that?" Frank inquired, his eyes fixed on the casket ahead of us.

I nodded. "Yeah, I heard it."

"Can you forget about it?"

I nodded, playing with the edge of my skirt with my pudgy fingers. "No..."

More awkward silence.

"But I can _forgive_ it if you want me too."

A few seconds of more comfortable silence. "Yeah," Frank Beeston finally said. "Yeah, I want you to, Erin."

Then the silence was broken by Frank clearing his Eustachian channel again.

"Did I ever tell you my sister has that same thing?" I asked, knowing darn well that I never had.

"No," Frank said and we smiled at one another.

* * *

We talked a lot while as we waited for morning. Frank told me about his own family, which seemed rather messed up. As I studied him sitting beside me on the funeral home's floor, I realized that there were many reasons that Frank was the way that he was, his mother and father being a large part of that and I understood him a little better.

I also found out that he had really cared for Lindsay but not as much as he ever wanted to. "I tried to tell myself that that was it for me," he mused. "That I'd found the best the planet could offer in regards to a companion. And it was good there for a while. The sex was okay. The talks were honest. Then it went to shit again. We made good friends. Or whatever we were."

"You were lulled into a false sense of security?" I asked. "With nobody fluffy to see on your way out?"

"Well, there was you," Frank stated.

I felt suddenly very flattered and very shy and my eyes darted to my old boss.

"What are you most afraid about dying?" her boyfriend suddenly asked, the conversation eventually rolling around to death as his eyes came to rest on Lindsay too.

"You first," I said, embarrassed by a deep rooted and unspoken fear.

"Not _being_ , I guess," he said. "But, as a good little Christian girl, you wouldn't get that, I suppose. Not with your visions of clouds and harps and all that."

I turned my head, letting it still rest on the coffin. "That doesn't mean I don't have doubts," I said, smiling sadly at him. "Not _being_ used to freak me out too. Until I realized if I _wasn't_ , then I wouldn't feel anything anyway. Now everyone I love not being is what really freaks me out. Even if I didn't exist, I'd still want them too. But I honestly believe in a God and that there is something after all this so I'm not worried about that."

"So, what _does_ freak you out," Frank asked.

I turned my head and played with my fingers for a while. "I'm worried what the morticians will think of me...my size...the embalmer and all that. What the pallbearers will think when they carry me to my final resting place. I'm worried that I'm too _big_ to fit in the coffin."

Frank laughed and looked me over. "You're not _that_ big."

"You wanted my honest fear," I said and met his eyes.

He gazed at me for what seemed like a solid minute before rising to his feet. "Well, time to face your fears," he said.

"You're not going to kill me, Frank, are you?" I asked, half joking.

"No," he said, looking down at me. "I want you to see you're being an idiot. I want you to get in the fucking coffin."

He opened the second part of it and threw the other lid open again too.

I rose to my feet and studied the thing in fear. "I don't think so."

Frank Beeston looked at me somberly. "As your new boss, consider it your first assignment. I'll fire you if you don't."

Gulping I looked at the casket again and weighed the fear of my weight against the fear of unemployment.

I began to try to climb into the coffin but found it not so easy. Watching me struggle, I eventually felt Frank step behind me and try to help me up, a hand of his on each of my large ass cheeks.

"Hey!" I squeaked.

"Don't think about filing for harrassment," he stated. "That's your _old_ job not your new one."

Shy, embarrassed and turned on by the feeling of his hands where they were, I managed to hurry into the casket and swiftly fell onto its morbid bedding. It felt silky and nice on my exposed legs and I pitied that whomever it was intended for wouldn't be alive to experience it. Lying down, I realized that my fears were unfounded and that I _did_ fit, after all.

I was smiling at the ceiling of Murphy and Binhammer when I saw the view obstructed by Frank's face peering down at me, like someone coming to pay me their last respects.

"See?" he said.

"See," I said and offered him the same pleased grin.

"That's good," he said, before climbing into the coffin with me.

"Frank!" I cried. "They won't be burying us together, for crying out loud!"

"I know that," he said, loosening his tie.

"Well if you're trying this model out for the future, let me get out first," I said wryly, trying to squirm away even though he was on top of me.

"I'm about to make love to you, Erin," Frank Beeston proclaimed, removing his tie.

"In a coffin?" I demanded in shock.

"Yeah, why not?" he replied,his hands disappearing up my skirt and removing my underwear. My lower extremities came to further life from his action, offsetting the deathly atmosphere of the place where I was lying.

"I'm a virgin!" I exclaimed.

"You won't be in a few seconds," Frank commented, fumbling with his belt.

"You're girlfriend is lying dead over there, looking like Pee Wee Herman!" I tried to remind him.

"You said that she wasn't there; that she was in heaven," Frank countered and I heard the sound of his zipper going down.

"Yes, that's what _I_ believe. But _you_ said that you didn't," I retaliated.

"Well for the next fifteen minutes, I'll believe it too," he said, pulling out his stiffening cock. "So you don't have to feel so bad."

My vagina clenched in appreciation and want while I felt hopelessly hot and embarrassed. "Frank...if this is some form of revenge because you think Lindsay was cheating on you with Chuck..."

I clamped my hands over my mouth, having let slip out the name of the attorney whom Lindsay had most likely been sleeping with.

"So it was Chuck," Frank said. "The little shit. I don't feel so bad now taking all of his money after betting that you'd be Lindsay's last secretary."

"That was _you_?" I asked in shock.

"Yeah," he said, giving his erection a few tugs.

"Why did you think it would be me?" I inquired, trying my best to ignore his very nice penis.

"Because I knew from the moment I saw you, and you saw me, that it would come down to this, what we're doing now, sometime sooner or later. If f I could just keep Lindsay from firing you, that you wouldn't be able to leave until one day you followed me into the men's room or we both slipped into Lindsay's office and we just had each other like we wanted to since that first time we touched."

I was sure that my face was turning crimson against the white satin of the casket's lining; I felt about as red from blood as Frank's penis looked.

"But I knew it would take you forever," he continued, "because you are so damn shy and so sweet and moral you could never bring yourself to do it even though I sat in that fucking waiting room for hours, hating you a little because you weren't my type, at all, but you still made me think, after settling with Lindsay, that maybe there _was_ somebody made for me after all."

His hand had gone from his phallus to slink under my dress again and I felt it traveling to my folds, checking tentatively to see if I was wet.

"But what if you were wrong?" I asked, feeling two of his fingers dipping inside and knowing he would find out that the answer was yes. "What if I left before we could hurt Lindsay?"

Frank stared down at me while his fingers glided easily up towards my blooming clit. "Then the money wouldn't have mattered: you'd have been gone and I would have lost anyway."

That did it

"Oh Frank," I moaned as his fingertips touched my bud while his words touched my heart.

I pulled him down on top of me and our lips met, his erection falling between my parted legs. Frank Beeston kissed me with a passion that outweighed his cynicism and I arched my back from the sensation of his fingers rubbing my clitoris. "Frank, ohhh..." I murmured again as his lips moved to my neck. My legs parted even more from my arousal and I felt him poised to enter the part that was in desparate need of him.

"Take me...please take me, Frank," I moaned, his head at my breasts and nuzzling them through my shirt.

"Beg me a little more," he demanded, biting a nipple and teasing it with his tongue.

"Please, oh please...oh, Frank pleeeaasse," I pleaded, so sexually excited, I could barely think straight inside of the coffin.

"You want this, big baby?" he asked with a little push, the tip of his cock touching my vagina but not going in.

"Oh..mmmmm....hmmmm," I said with a wriggling of my hips and a slight push forward. "Oh, yes, baby wants, please...PLEASE!"

My cunt was dripping wet and Frank's dick was leaking also as he pushed inside, his own need fully evident. A flash of pain matched the harsh closing of my eyes but it was gone soon enough and replaced by the wonderful pleasure of Frank Beeston's engorged cock filling my previously unused cunt.

I saw his eyes filling with pleasure as I squirmed a bit, getting used to the feeling of the usually vacant tunnel being made full. But past his own bliss, he managed to look down at me, while I bit my lip, trying to stifle another loud cry of ecstasy.

"You okay?" he asked.

I nodded and looked at him in a mixture of shyness and bold enjoyment of my first act of sex.

"Are you sure?" he asked.

I decided to unbite my lip and show it to him.

Loudly, I started to moan in pleasure, sounding like a banshee in heat. Seeing that I obviously was more than just okay, Frank Beeston began to move more assuredly, sending more unintelligble cries to fly out from my lips. At one point, his hands now free, I watched as he tore open my plain white shirt, the one I had stared at in the mirror for ages wondering what he would think of, and then ripped my bra in two also.

"No," I moaned, not wanting him to see my breasts, which were big but not as nice as Lindsay Arlington's.

Frank didn't give a damn, though, as he did with most things in life. His lips found my left nipple and he started to suck on it slowly. I cried out in pure bliss, the sensation unbelieveable.

The man's own sounds were filling the funeral home, as he thrusted into me and I instinctively moved my body next to his. My hands cupped his ass and we started bumping together so fiercely that both of the lids came down on us. It was dark then but it didn't really matter. As long as I could feel the hard length of Frank Beeston inside of me, and feel his desire for me mixed with a certain tenderness, I could still see him clearly. Unfazed, we kept on with our motion and moaning until I started to climax my body spasming as the cunt wrapped around Frank Beeston's penis persuaded it that it was time for it to come also.

"Oh shit, I think I love you," he moaned while he came.

"I love you too," I replied, kissing the left side of his neck.

The sounds of our mutual climaxes mingled into an almost haunted sound as they bounced around the coffin walls. I heard Frank's groaning as the noise bothered his tinnitus and he started interjecting the familiar sound amongst his orgasmic cries. His hand busy squeezing my right tit, I stuck my finger in his ear in an attempt to help him out with it while I continued my moans of pleasure. I saw Frank doing that thing with his mouth and throat as light inexplicably flooded into the coffin. Squinting in pain, I saw my lover still in the process of doing it as he turned his head and we saw...

* * *

**MOANING FROM SHOW COFFIN MORTIFIES MORTICIAN AT MORTUARY**

On All Souls Day, a worker at Murphy and Binhammer Funeral Home received quite the shock when he showed up for work to hear the sound of moaning drifting throughout the Funeral Home. Following the noise to a room where a Miss Lindsay Arlington was awaiting placement before her burial the next day, a frightened Mr. Lewis Bach soon traced the unearthly sounds to a show coffin. 

Opening the casket's lid, the mortician was greeted by the sight of a bearded man with an odd look on his face and a finger in his ear. Thinking it was a ghost left behind on the sacred holiday meant to honor the dead, Mr. Bach soon fainted out of fear.

As it turned out, the sound was coming from two lovers whom had become trapped inside of the funeral home and had started to have sex inside of the coffin. The lovers, whom both wish to remain nameless, were just as surprised by the mortician it seems. The man and the woman, whom also happens to be the unnamed man's secretary, were mostly apologetic for the affair, except for the man who was rather rude about the incident and wanted an apology for being interrupted, Mr. Binhammer claims. Mr. Murphy, however, said that the woman smoothed things over and that the very happy couple agreed to pay for the stained coffin, stating that the spoils of an unidentified wager pretty well covered it and that the time spent alone together (not including the corpse) was worth it.

They did not inform either Mr. Murphy or Mr. Binhammer, however, what their intention for the coffin was or why it was to be shipped to the unnamed man's home.

**Author's Note:**

> Dear Keanu;
> 
> Yesterday, while researching this fic, I read about how a beaver once killed a man. He was fishing and saw the beaver. Trying to take a photo with the animal, the poor man died after it bit him in a major artery and he bled out. That influenced me for this. Today, I went shopping; the underwire in my bra popped out at the side and I was left worrying it would be life's ironic joke if it pierced my artery before I got this posted. :/ Luckily it didn't happen though. I liked the way this turned out.
> 
> I liked you in "Destination Wedding" and that you were given the opportunity to play a different kind of role. But some of it made me uncomfortable. I didn't like the talk about Lindsay's body because it made me self conscious about my own body's faults and what you would think of it. I'm far from firm or any of those things that Frank compliments Lindsay's for being.
> 
> There was a conversation in there too...
> 
> Can I tell you, Keanu, I don't care what it's like? Straight, crooked, long, short, thin or thick...Just as long as it is yours. That's all that matters to me.
> 
> Much love,  
> Erin  
> XO XO  
> :D <3


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